


Matched

by TheAuburnGirl



Category: Matched Trilogy - Ally Condie, Once Upon A Time - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Future, F/M, Introspection, POV First Person
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-27
Updated: 2013-06-27
Packaged: 2017-12-16 08:42:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,982
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/860175
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheAuburnGirl/pseuds/TheAuburnGirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When you turn 18, the Society Matches you with the person you are most compatible with.  He or she is your Match, the person you will marry and start a family with.  Belle doesn’t want a Match—she isn’t ready.  It’s even worse when she finds out her Match is a Gold.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Matched

For perhaps the hundredth time this night I feel a wave of nausea wash over me. My palms are sweaty and I'm jittery. Across from me sits my father and mother, both conversing with Red's parents. Unlike me, Red isn't nervous. She's a ball of energy, excited for the Match Banquet. She prays it's Peter she is matched with. I have no preference—no idea who the Society has picked for me to spend the rest of my life with.

The most probable outcome is that I will be Matched with a young man I've never met before who is from a different city. But if that's the case, I'll see a brief, live image of him in a different City Hall at the Banquet.

"Belle, you look ready to faint," Red teases. Her green eyes are alight with the lights of the city. The air train's spherical glass doesn't do much to block them.

I look up from my hands. "Really? I look that bad?"

"You look gorgeous, sweetheart," my mother interjects gently.

"Maybe you should take a green tablet," Ruby adds.

"No!" My father's voice comes out rougher than he intends because he quickly repeats the word softly and says, "Being nervous is part of the experience. Wouldn't want to ruin that would we?" It's a bald-faced lie. In truth, my father hates the emergency pack we all carry. Every pack has three tablets—one green, one blue, one red. The green tablet offers immediate calm. The blue tablet allows one to survive for days without food or water (only to be used in an emergency). No one knows what the red tablet does—only that we're supposed to swallow it when ordered to by Society Officials.

My father despises the Society, but he never voices his opinions for fear of punishment because the Society is always listening and watching. He has been cited for misconduct before and we can't afford another. Only when our family is completely secluded does he speak of his disdain.

But tonight is not about him or his beliefs. Tonight is about me. So I nod at his comment, playing along, and gaze out the air train's windows.

The night is speckled with fantastic stars, casting a friendly glow over the city. It's ironic, really. The sky is untouched, free while I am about to be chained to some eighteen year-old boy I've never laid eyes on. I should probably be excited like Red right now or like the thousands of other girls who have been waitingfor years to know their Match. They have been dreaming of this moment their whole lives. They—like 93% of the Matchees—are most likely nervous.

The key difference between me and them is that I'm not excited. Nervous? Yes. Excited? No. I don't like the idea of anyone telling me who I shall be partnered with even if the Society has 'Matched' me with my 'best' candidate, scientifically proven.

"Look, we're here!" Ruby cries, literally bouncing in her seat. Her eyes are trained on the rapidly approaching City Hall. It is enormous and grandiose, just as the Society made it to be.

My hands skim down my sapphire-colored dress. The soft fabric flatters my slim figure and enhances the azure in my eyes and I hope the young man I am Matched with will think it lovely on me.

I don't have time to prepare myself before the air train pulls up to City Hall and opens its doors. Red and her parents step off first, heading for City Hall. My mother and father disembark, and it's only when they turn back and gaze at me that I realize I'm still aboard. With tempered steps, I ease off the train's platform.

It is only the three of us tonight. My little sister—Rose—is too young to come to the Match Banquet. The first one you attend is always your own, so in eight years (when she turns eighteen) she'll be going to the same City Hall I am walking towards right now.

Eight years... For some reason I already feel sorry for her.

Eventually, we make it inside and are seated in a corner of the room. Tables line the hall, showing off hundreds of Matchees and their families, and it is easy to identify the Matchees; we are younger than all the others and are dressed in beautiful flowing dresses and tailored suits. Everyone else is plainly dressed, so we stand out like beacons amidst a sea of darkness.

"Look at the china," my mother whispers, amazed. "It's beautiful..."

My father harrumphs softly and lets his eyes trail around the room. I spot Red nearby and give her an insincere smile. The girl is literally shivering in anticipation, while I sit here wondering if my world is about to fall into pieces.

Mother goes on about the furniture, the flowers, and the chandeliers. She has an appreciation for these sorts of things. I don't. Pretty much the only thing I appreciate is books, so her oohs and awes are almost enough to try my already-stretched patience. It's only when an Official speaks that she quiets.

"Please be seated. Dinner is about to be served."

For the life of me, I don't understand how any Matchee can have an appetite at such an important banquet as this. When my eyes flit about the room to see how some are doing, I notice a girl in a turquoise dress staring at her plate of steak, roasted potatoes, and greens with an empty expression. My heart goes out to her because I know I won't be able to eat any morsel of food either.

The plate I am given remains untouched through dinner, even though my parents try to prompt me into eating something. Music is played as they eat and enjoy their meal, and according to my mother, the chocolate cake is to die for.

"We are ready to announce the Matches," the announcer says, and those few words bring fresh fear running through my system. I'm not ready. And nothing could be more terrifying.

Still, I force myself to watch calmly as my fellow Matchees, one-by-one, stand and present themselves before the screen that will show us our Match.

There's a system to the Matching. All of the City Halls across the country are filled with people, the Matches being announced in alphabetical order according to the girls' last names. Unlike us, the boys will have no warning when their names are called. I pity them.

One after another a girl stands and sees her Match for the first time. The image is brief, but revealing and final. After that, each Matchee is given a silver box by a hostess. The silver box contains a microcard with background about his or her Match. Later, the silver boxes will be used to house the rings for the Marriage Contract, which is one year from now.

My last name is French, so it doesn't take long before the announcer is calling my name, "Isabelle Marie French!" and I have to stand and face the screen.

My mother squeezes my hand before I ease up out of my chair. I pray that my outward demeanor shows some semblance of calm because, inside, I'm screaming and crying at the same time. My Match—the man I will marry and start a family with—is about to be displayed on the blank screen. I will try to look appealing. For his sake and mine.

But nothing happens.

I stand and look at the screen, and, as time goes by, the screen does not flicker to life and show my Match. It can only mean one thing...

All I can do is watch with my head held high and feel as a small flame of hope ignites in my chest. Any other girl would be mortified. But I'm silently happy to see that the Society has not found a Match for me. Whispers rise through the room, like birds fluttering their wings under the dome of City Hall and all I want to do is laugh. All that worrying for this!

My happiness is shattered when the hostess says, smiling: "Your Match is here this evening." Shit. My eyes scan the room. If my Match is here, he might be someone I know, someone I've seen at Secondary School and have spoken with—

"Rumford Nicholas Gold."

The name and the gasps of the crowd ring in my ears as a slim figure rises across the room. His dark eyes meet mine and a wolfish smile spreads across his lips.

Oh no. No. No. No! Any other person but him.

I force another smile, but now my insides are burning with worry because I know Rumford Gold. We go to the same Secondary School and have spent time working on projects together. He's always treated me well, but he treats everyone else as if they are below him. He's brilliant and clever and powerful. No one messes with him.

To make matters worse, his father is a key Official in the Society (very powerful, rich, and influential). Because he is my Match, I will marry him and bear his children. Live in the same house as him. Conform to his way of thinking—believe that the Society is good, not bad like my father says.

Yet a part of me has to wonder why and how Rumford Gold is my supposed other half. The Society has ordained him as my most compatible partner, so maybe we are cut out for each other after all? But the pessimistic side of me whispers "bullshit".

My eyes hone in on his as clapping breaks out. There is wicked glee in them...and if the shiver running up my spine doesn't deceive me, there is desire in them as well. I'm utterly shocked. It's all in those amber eyes of his. He wanted me to be his Match, is pleased to have me for his partner.

In a year's time we'll be married through the Marriage Contract, and then he'll have me all for himself.

The realization is more terrifying then I ever imagined. Though, the fear is underlined with hope. Rumford has never mistreated me; he has always spoken to me as if I am his equal. He's always the gentleman holding doors open for me. It's just that we've hardly spoken to each other and he manipulates and uses others...

The clapping eventually dies. Rumford holds my gaze fiercely for another moment before sitting back down in his chair. It is then that I notice his father and mother beside him, practically oozing regality and power. My stomach churns horribly.

"I cannot let this happen," my father hisses lowly so that only my mother and I can hear. To fight the Match would cause severe punishment or worse. I can't let my family be harmed. I will not let anything happen to them because of me.

I've read somewhere that doing the brave thing allows bravery to follow. So I swallow my absolute fear and worry, and decide to do the brave thing. "Hush...he is my Match. I will go with him," I declare quietly as the Matching continues.

The hostess brings me my silver box, and I know that in the early hours of the morn, I will open the box and insert the microcard into the television. There is no doubt in my mind that Rumford will do the same.

Slowly, my eyes rise from the box and meet his again. They are not as dark as before, for they hold a hint of softness and affection in them. And although I am afraid of what our future holds—yes, our future, for he is mine as much as I am his—I think for the first time that this Match might work.

**Author's Note:**

> I probably won't be adding to this, but I will most likely hold a Promptathalon on Tumblr for this verse, so keep an eye on the horizon! Thanks for reading :)


End file.
